Ombra, Part Five
by Chornyi
Summary: Continuation- Danny, Sara and Ian must fight the one enemy who may beat them all.. Rated R for scenes with slight sexual undertones and for violence.


Ombra, Part Five  
  
By Chornyi  
  
Not mine.. Not even Ian, unfortunately. You know whose they are.  
  
Continuation- Danny, Sara and Ian must confront the one enemy who could beat them all...   
  
....................................................................................  
  
Sara is afraid. It is hard to admit that, even to herself.  
  
She has always been wary of Ian, but he had a restraint, a control that made him seem just a little bit safe.   
  
This Ian has no restraint, no control. And he is anything but safe.  
  
She looks down at the Witchblade, and the blade slides out of the gauntlet- it is prepared at last to defend her.   
  
Te replicant smiles at her and takes a step forward.   
  
Sara brings the blade up to guard, but he pauses a few feet away, out of range. He holds Ian's katana lightly, as if it is an extension of his left hand.  
  
'How good are you, Sara Pezzini?' he asks in that silky, threatening voice.  
  
'You're about to find out.'   
  
She may be afraid, but she is still Sara Pezzini.   
  
Fear has never stopped her before.   
  
Stepping forward, she closes the distance between them and cuts at him with the Witchblade.   
  
He moves like a cat and evades her strike, then brings the katana toward her in a lazy motion that looks a lot slower then it is- she barely brings her own blade up in time to knock his away from her left side.  
  
He has lost the smile, his face holds only concentration, the same deadly looks she has seen on Ian's face when he fights.  
  
For the first time, she realizes she could lose.  
  
That doesn't stop her either.  
  
They fight.   
  
There is nothing but the sound of blade on blade, the quick motions and graceful steps, the delicate feints and the brutal, slashing attacks.  
  
Nothing but him.   
  
The small smile as he underestimates her and has to step back to save himself from a hard underhand slash.   
  
His eyes, large, brilliant, dark, filled intensity as they meet hers over crossed blades. The feel of his breath as he leans into her, his chest pressing against the locked swords, his eyes on her lips, too close.  
  
She pushes him back, but the muscles in her arm tremble with the effort.   
  
Her breath is coming in harsh pants, but his is slow, even.   
  
She is good, but he is better.   
  
Slowly, he backs her into the wall. There is nowhere to go, nowhere to flee. She feels her back hit the cinderblocks and he moves forward inexorably, his blade meeting hers, forcing it up and back until he can grab her wrist with his free hand, his gloved hand on Witchblade metal.   
  
He breathes in slowly and his eyes widen, his breath comes out a shuddering sigh. 'At last,' he whispers.   
  
He forces her wrist up until it is pinned against the wall. Almost gently, he places the edge of the katana against her throat.  
  
He is inches away, his body brushing hers in places, his face hovering over hers. He closes his eyes, leans into her and kisses her.  
  
Almost gently.  
  
Not quite.   
  
It is an invasion and a seduction at the same time.  
  
She feels the blade of the katana, sharp enough to part flesh if she even breaths, ice cold to the heat of his tongue, his lips on hers, and she doesn't move.  
  
At last he draws away, pausing with his lips almost brushing hers, his golden brown eyes staring into hers. They are glazed with desire.  
  
'Yield,' he breathes.  
  
'Never,' she whispers back.  
  
---   
  
Ian steps into the loft, his boots silent on the matting. He takes in the scene in a glance and his muscles tense under the long black coat he has put on.  
  
'You should not touch her like that.' he says almost gently.  
  
The replicant turns at his words, and Ian sees his own face staring back at him. It is like looking into a mirror, except this mirror image has a smile that Ian has never seen on his own face.   
  
'Why not?' the replicant asks. 'Because you want to?'  
  
'No.' Ian answers, his voice sounding small but certain. 'Because everyone who touches her.. dies.'  
  
'And should I fear her for that.. Or you?' the replicant asks. He looks away from Ian and back to Sara, who stares up at him like a bird fascinated by a snake.  
  
Ian looks at her, too, and hesitates for an instant before he answers.  
  
'Me.'  
  
The replicant continues looking at Sara. He brings his face the tiniest bit closer to hers, and Ian tenses further.  
  
'You know..' the replicant says in a soft, almost musing voice, 'when he awakened me, he told me we would meet. It's funny. He warned me about you.'  
  
'Why is that funny?'  
  
'Because he should've warned you.. about me.' The replicant switches his grip from Sara's wrist to her throat.   
  
Lifting her effortlessly with one hand, he tosses her across the room and into the far wall. She cries out when she hits, and doesn't get up.  
  
'You should not have done that.' Ian says. He wants to go to Sara but he forces himself not to move. She will keep. This enemy will not.  
  
'I seem to do a lot of things I should not do.' the replicant replies. 'You should try it sometime.'  
  
He moves away from the wall, holding the katana with the back edge laid across his shoulder and the cutting edge facing outward.   
  
Circling Ian slowly, he surveys him up and down. 'You are weak, Ian. You lack a vital part that is present in my makeup. That is why he awakened me. He told me the time would come when you would no longer be able to function as you should. He prepared me for that time.' The replicant stops when he has circled Ian fully. He smiles again, a wide, satisfied, cat-that-ate-the-cream smile. 'That time has come. You know, it is a sin,' he adds.  
  
'What is a sin?' Ian asks. He watches his double warily.  
  
'That you should look so much like me.' the replicant answers. 'There should only be one of us, Ian.'  
  
'Yes.' Ian agrees.  
  
'Soon, there will be.' the replicant says gently. His smile is almost loving. Then he brings up the katana and lunges at Ian.   
  
Ian pulls his black Ninja blade out of his long coat and meets his enemy's rush.  
  
Ian is usually a confident fighter, but this time he is fighting himself.   
  
The replicant seems to know his moves before he makes them.   
  
The katana is a blur of silver in his vison. He blocks with his dead-black, nonreflective weapon, but it is an effort to hold back each blow the enemy throws at him.   
  
The katana is longer then his knife. Its blade finds its way under his guard and he feels a sharp pain in his side- a shallow cut.   
  
First blood.  
  
The replicant smiles. 'Are you afraid yet, Ian? He told me you could evolve. He also told me fear is not a part of your programming. But I think I can make it a part.'  
  
He slahes again and Ian receives another cut, this time on his cheek. He feels warm blood trickling through the short hairs of his beard and down to the corner of his mouth. He licks it away. The replicant slashes again, and Ian jerks his head back. The cut misses, and Ian counterstrikes at the replicant with the Ninja sword.   
  
But the enemy blocks him easily with his longer reach. 'Do you feel inferior yet, Ian? I can smell your blood.. your sweat. You are tiring, aren't you?'  
  
He cuts again, and the katana finds Ian's arm. It draws a line of pain across his bicep and blood soaks darkly into the sleeve of his coat.  
  
'You are the perfect soldier, Ian. Once you were the perfect servant, but you failed at that. Now you will fail at this.'  
  
Another cut, this time on the left ribs. Blood slides wetly down Ian's side.  
  
''He told me you long for death. I can bring you that. I can give you eternity, Ian.'  
  
The replicant moves toward him, backing him toward the wall.   
  
Ian is breathing hard. He raises his chin, turning his head to the side, trying to track the enemy's motions. But they are too fast.  
  
The katana comes up, and his block is barely in time to save him a cut on the neck that might have severed the carotid. He tries to push the blade further away, but cannot. The replicant smiles, brilliant dark eyes fixed on Ian's.  
  
Ian's arm muscles quiver, and slowly his blade is forced back until the upper edge rests against the wall. It is the same position Sara was in.   
  
The replicant reaches up and closes his right hand on the blade, above Ian's grip.   
  
Almost gently, he slips the blade from Ian's grasp, lowering the katana until the chisel tip rests in the hollow of Ian's throat.  
  
Ian closes his eyes.  
  
'Goodbye, Ian,' the replicant whispers. 'Tell Father I said hello.'  
  
--- 


End file.
